Last Night, Nature was really pretty. This Morning, I was really not.

I went camping this weekend.  Couldn't you tell?  Probably not, because there aren't any pictures of it here as like proof or whatever.  It wasn't until after I was driving home that I realized that not only did I neglect to Instagram anything from the experience, but I didn't even take any pictures of it at all.  Zilch. 

SO, with no substantial photographic evidence on social media: did it really even happen??? 

Yeah, it did.  Believe you me. 

On the drive up, we were passing through all these hilly green canyons but at the same time there were big red rock mountains and the sun was setting, washing the entire vista with vibrant yellow and pink sunsetty light, silhouetting the sauguaro cacti, standing all erect and hilarious, in the most beautifully fleeting way. 

"You GUYS!" I kept shouting all annoyingly.  "We're IN A PAINTING!"  I kept wanting to pull off on the side of the road to take pictures of it all, but I didn't bring my nice camera, and would the photos really have meant as much to me once it was dark?  I think it was the unexpected surprise of being caught in such a dreamy sunset and knowing  how ephemeral it really was that made it so weirdly intense for me.  As dusk rapidly fell, washing out the previously electrifying colors with a thin dusty grey absence of light, I felt nagged that I hadn't gotten a picture of it all.  

And so I had to remind myself: I'd been treated to the privilege of a gorgeous sunset that was largely so beautiful because it was so transitory.  It's moments like those where you have to take a mental snapshot of how incredible something is, and just appreciate that you were able to witness it.  

And then before bed that night, while everyone else was snuggling down into their little sleeping bags, I bundled up extra and clambered on outside to say goodnight to the stars.  I wandered out into an open patch of sky, turned off my flashlight, and threw my head back until I was dizzily staggering around, drunk on the immensity of my celestial audience.  I knew that no photo could truly capture the astronomical panorama bestowed upon me there in that moment, and so I thanked the stars and the pine trees and the cold and everybody for making nature so mind-blowingly beautiful for me.  (Because, well.  Obviously it's all for me.  Who else would it be for?)

And then on my way home this morning, 

SCENE: 
Face: leftover makeup, cold Rudolph nose
Hair: scraggly and messy because why would I have fixed my hair on a camping trip
Clothes: tshirt + hoodie + north face + bacon grease-stained sweat pants (with the cinched ankles), mismatched socks, and ridiculously inappropriate boat shoes
Odor: Eau de l'campfire smoke
Setting: Car wash 

Attractive well-groomed car wash employee man dressed all in black, inspecting my car pre-wash, pointing to a small crack in my windshield: "What's keeping you from getting this fixed?" 

Me, looking like a hobo and feeling sensitive about the accusatory nature of his question: "Umm...I didn't know that was something you could do? Okay, but also.  I just went camping and I smell really bad and I don't want to get out of the car because I'm dressed kind of embarrassingly."

Man with the well-combed hair and severe side part, undeterred by my lack of hygiene: "Why don't you want us to take care of it right now?"
Me, literally smelling how badly I reek of campfire smoke: "Umm...I guess you can if you want to?"

And then, without realizing what was happening, ANOTHER attractive well-groomed car wash employee man dressed all in black just GETS IN MY CAR WITHOUT MY PERMISSION.  AND THEN HE RODE THROUGH THE ENTIRE CAR WASH WITH ME.  WHILE I SMELLED LIKE SMOKE. 

I honestly just didn't know how I was supposed to react.  Why was this attractive man who had showered that morning and looked nice and presentable so weirdly sitting in my passenger seat all of a sudden? How had this happened?  Where had he come from?

At a loss for words, I feebly tried to explain that I'd gone camping and I knew I smelled.  
A couple minutes later, he affirmed, "I'm glad you warned me and were all like 'I stink!' when I got in."  

For the record, I'd never said "stink."  But it was still weird and I was self-conscious. 
(And, let's be honest, sweaty because it was like 90  degrees and I was still wearing all of my smelly layers.)

And then the attractive well-groomed car wash employee man dressed all in black from the beginning of the story (who happened to have really nice legs) fixed the crack in my windshield, but in order to do so, HE had to climb in my passenger seat as well  and do something unnerving with fire that, again, I had not authorized to take place inside of my car.  And then he told me that the entire car wash had broken down after I went through and asked if it was my fault because my car had been so dirty.  

So....yeah.  Attractive strangers just kept getting into my car, uninvited, while I wore my bacon sweatpants and had really bad hair and smelled kind of offensively.  

It happened, but I don't have any pictures of it, so it might not have happened either.